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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29361399">all i've ever wanted</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavvlove/pseuds/pavvlove'>pavvlove</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fall Out Boy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU - Arsonist/Forensics Technician, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Miscarriage, Nonbinary Character, Pete learning how to comfort others, Trans Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:27:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29361399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavvlove/pseuds/pavvlove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>the rain is here, and you, my dear are still my friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe Trohman/Pete Wentz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. joseph trohman vs an unexpected event</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>part of an au i have in which pete is a nonbinary arsonist who uses they/them pronouns and is far too clever for their own good, and joe is a trans man who uses he/him and is an equally clever forensics technician. more on the main storyline will be incorporated in it's own chapter.</p><p>for physical reference, the story is set in 2004- pete is their infinity/folie counterpart and joe's is van days/pre fall out boy.</p><p>their ages are probably 25 and 20, respectively.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>the sky is orange, like a faded red. the hue of the sunset above almost takes pete’s breath away as they examine it with amber eyes for a brief second before they return to their place on the road ahead- watching the traffic in front of them during rush hour stack up and lag the interstate. but the color is like fire, burning in their soul. flames flickering in the dead of night as a peaceful wave calms them. it draws them in. the feeling of lighting a match and tossing it off as a catalyst to the feeling of peace. lucidity. being in the moment.</p><p>"fuck!" they hiss as they slam the breaks. the traffic comes to a sudden stop once it spills out of the exit and onto the main highway. pete immediately looks over at their passenger who half way stirs just to move into a position that allows him to rest his head on the armrest in between the front seats.</p><p>joe called them earlier to come pick him up from work- something about being extremely tired and just not feeling well. pete figures it's simply because he hasn't eaten all day, but was happy to come get him as he fell asleep the second they got to the car. "sorry." they apologize. joe doesn't respond. he's far too out of it to care.</p><p>pete turns the radio on. it's going to be a minute. they're playing ava adore by the smashing pumpkins. they like this song.</p><p>it's dark before they reach joe's apartment; as expected. 'it's perfect night for a bonfire' they think. </p><p>"joe. get up." pete says, opening the passenger door and poking his side where they know it hurts. joe simply groans and wraps his arms around his head. pete doesn't think they could leave him out here in good conscience. "joe. we gotta go in. and you really need to eat." it's useless, unfortunately. so pete does the only thing that they can think of. it's not easy, and it's probably not good for their back, but it gets the job done. they assume joe would do the same with them, except they'd like to think they're a bit easier to carry.</p><p>after pulling joe into a somewhat sitting position, they perch him on their back.</p><p>4 inches has never felt like such a height difference until joe's lanky frame is draped over pete's small one. he wraps his arms around pete on instinct, but it's still a struggle to haul him up 2 flights of stairs. his head falls over pete's shoulder. dead fucking weight. </p><p>they make it to joe's bedroom- a job that pete didn't count on happening without incident. they're quick to drop him in bed and straighten their posture. joe doesn't even move, he just falls into his covers like some limp rag doll, sprawled out across the bed. </p><p>"seriously?" pete huffs as they untie their boyfriend’s shoes and pull them off. “when was the last time that this kid slept?”</p><p>since literally dragging your dead boyfriend around takes a lot out of you, pete doesn't hesitate to call the closest pizza place and order a large with all of their favorite toppings. put in for delivery. while they wait, they look around in the cabinets to find a bowl of cat food to fill the bowl at the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. as soon as they grab the bag, they can hear the little bell on predator’s collar. she meows at them and swishes her fluffy black tail, as if to say ‘thank you’. </p><p>/ <i></i></p><p>
  <i>it was a blazing hot day in august- or, at least for chicago standards. pete vividly remembers sitting in an interrogation room, being questioned about a recent fire that they definitely caused, it’s just the first time that they’re at threat of being caught. this one was different- it was bigger, and burned for a long time. it almost took a life- well, actually two. but it didn’t. of course it eats them alive, but they can’t let them know that. they’re far too pretty for jail as far as they’re concerned.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>they never squirm- they give a confident smirk. they know how to keep quiet and when to speak at the right times- they studied this shit in college. they were going to be a lawyer.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>the receptionist they had talk to earlier comes in the room with a bottle of water. he’s a dirty blonde named patrick with a snarky ass attitude. pete can’t say that he gave a good impression. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“detective mark trohman should be in soon. have a complimentary bottle of water, and don’t start any shit.” he places it in front of pete and leaves the room. pete doesn’t give a fuck about mark trohman. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>when patrick opens the door as he leaves, multiple voices can be heard in the hallway. it peaks their interest.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“i’ve literally never done this before. do i have to? why can’t a police officer do it?” one man asks. pete then hears pacing and a sigh.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“but who knows the evidence better than the people who spend time analyzing it? who knows the evidence better than you?” another man asks. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“you’re literally only making me do this because i’m your kid. i told you i’m not comfortable with confronting people. i’m a lab rat, i stay behind the scenes.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“just go in there!” the other man raises his voice.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>a minute later, there’s a slight knock at the door, followed by a “hello?’. pete stares into blue eyes.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“hi.” they reply. “are you that detective?” they ask. judging by the lab coat and cargo pants combo, he’s probably not, but pete woke up today and chose to be a snarky little brat. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“no. my name’s joe, i’m from the crime lab.” he replies. “are you peter wentz?” they nod.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“pete wentz. freelance graphic designer... my friends call me panda sometimes.” they smirk, looking joe up and down with their hazel eyes. “so, you’re that guy’s kid, and you also work here. networking at it’s finest…” they trail off. “can i ask you something?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“oh. oh fuck.” this guy seems scared to death, and pete would be lying if they didn’t want to push that issue just a little bit, but that won’t be useful until later. “yeah... um, shoot, i’ll try to answer.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“nothing big.” pete states. “but, can you, um, if you refer to me…” they tap the table nervously. this is never easy. “can you refer to me as they? like, in the way you’d call someone he or she?” there's no telling why pete felt like they'd be able to explain this to this lab guy, but they do.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>joe sighs- but it seems like a sigh of relief. pete smirks again. “yeah, totally, i thought you were gonna’ ask me why you’re here or something.” he laughs. “not a problem.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“thanks.. i know you look at me and think you’re looking at a man, but.. i’m not.. but i’m not a girl either..i also realize i sound crazy right now because it’s either or, but….” it’s not easy for pete to explain how they view their gender- they just know that they’d rather die than be referred to as male. it’s weird. they feel like the only person in the world like this. it’s always been a struggle. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“you don’t sound crazy. i mean, i myself am a transgender man and it’s totally hard to explain to people. so i don’t.” he shrugs. “thanks for letting me know, i’ll correct the officers and the detective if you want.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“would you?” pete asks. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“duh. i’m not gonna stand here and watch them call you something you’re not.” he insists. the door opens again- it’s an older man, who’s probably that detective. he’s about to tell them their rights or whatever. they already know them. </i>
</p><p>/ </p><p>it's been a rough night. pete hasn't slept a wink and it isn't because of their own insomnia for once. but they don't say a word as they hold a freezer-burnt popsicle to joe's face as it was the coldest thing they could find to try and bring his temperature down. </p><p>he started running a fever when he came home from work. pete remembers him saying something about his lower back hurting a few days ago, but they didn’t think much more of it. joe hasn’t made it a big deal. he also mentioned something about feeling nauseated a lot lately, which was quickly chalked up to the stress of hiding evidence from the department. in their head, it sort of ties in with how joe was too exhausted to even wake up a few days ago, warranting pete to carry him on their back. still, it was concerning and pretty jarring when they found him leaned over the bathroom sink, pale and dry heaving.</p><p>pete’s totally freaked out, as it’s just completely unusual and they can’t even remember one time when joe was actually ill. </p><p>"sorry." he apologizes. he always does. pete doesn't think he needs to. he didn't ask for this. </p><p>"don't." pete says simply, sitting on the the bathroom floor with him. they haven't left his side no matter how rough it's gotten. joe appreciates it, but still feels bad.</p><p>"okay." he replies, nodding before his face is back in the toilet, his arms wrapped around himself. pete bites their lip in concern as he starts throwing up again.</p><p>"babe." pete says, putting the popsicle down and sliding over to rub his shoulders, "babe i think you need to see a doctor at this point. it couldn't hurt." while they make a point, joe really doesn't want to. he just wants to lay on the floor and die right now. </p><p>"i'll live." he insists, trying to get rid of the spit string hanging off his lip. he had taken his piercing out when he realized he was more than likely going to get sick so he'd have one less gross mess to deal with. "i have to. it's fine. just a virus, probably." pete continues to message his shoulder blades as he buries his face in his hands and takes notice at how much he's sweating. pete decides to fight against his word. </p><p>"no. no you really should. i don't care. you'll need an excuse to get out of work anyway even if it is just a virus." they get up and throw the popsicle in the sink as it's starting to melt. "come on." pete holds their hand out for him, which joe reluctantly accepts. he makes it upright, but that doesn't last as his knees give out and he blacks out in pete's arms.</p><p>"joe!!!" they exclaim, doing everything in their power to ensure that they don't both hit the floor. joe opens his eyes seconds later and stares off into space. "hospital." pete says sternly, "now." they turn him around and usher him out the door. joe doesn't say a word, seemingly more surprised at the fact that he passed out to begin with. </p><p>/ <i><br/>
it's december in chicago and snow is falling down. it's been a ridiculously awful day for pete as it seems everything in their life is falling apart- the company they were commissioned from dropped them, their card declined at the gas station, some guy shouted homophobic shit at them over their painted nails and the barrette in their hair. they didn't even fucking do anything.</i></p><p>
  <i>though they'd usually channel their current state of pain and anger into an elaborate scheme just to watch some flames, it's too cold and they're too tired to think about getting away with it and how. pete drives aimlessly around town until they think that joe might be home and they head to his apartment. that's all they can do. he'll know what to say. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>knocking at the door and shivering, pete bites their lip. his car is in the driveway. he has to be here. hurry up. hurry up. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>the door opens and pete's face to face with those baby blues they so fell in love with. joe's quick to pull them inside without saying a word, grabbing a handful of tissues to dry their tears. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>"hey, panda.. what's wrong? are you okay?" pete shakes their head, tears streaming down their face faster than joe can absorb them. they try to speak but a sharp whimper comes out.</i>
</p><p>
  <i> joe pulls them into his arms and onto the couch. it's not uncommon for pete to start crying. ever since they went off of their medication, they've been quite emotional. it's not a bad thing, though, and joe thinks that it's sort of cute how they can start crying over how cute a penguin on tv is. he just lets them do their thing and offers a listening ear if needed. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>"shh. shh. you're safe. you're alright." he whispers, their face in his hands. when pete manages to stop crying as hard, they begin to explain what had happened with the homophobic guy at the gas station and how everything else is tumbling down as well. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>"i'll beat him up for you." joe offers with a smirk, knowing it'll make pete smile at least. "you don't think i will? i may be a total dork, but i can throw down hands." pete laughs and wipes their face. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>"yeah?" they ask. joe nods matter-of-factly and predator jumps up on the couch. "i love you." they say, stroking predator's soft fur, "you're so sweet."  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>"you know what would make you feel better?" joe asks. pete tilts their head. "a big stack of pancakes totally drowned in syrup." joe has a point, making them tear up again at how well he knows them. "i'll go get started on 'em. remote's on the coffee table, you and predator can find something to watch." </i>
</p><p>
  <i>'thats my boy.' pete thinks to themself. they're totally going to marry him one of these days. </i>
</p><p>/</p><p>the first thing that they did to joe was stick an iv of fluids into his veins and take blood. he's pumped with morphine and zofran before he knows it, which takes care of the pain and nausea, respectively.  </p><p>they take so many samples from him that pete doesn't quite understand the point of pumping him with fluids if they're going to take it right back. </p><p>then they do some sort of x-ray or ultrasound or something. pete doesn't know. they made them leave the room. </p><p>"they found something weird." joe says when pete comes back, half asleep and probably not even sure of what he's talking about. pete almost drops the bright green soda in their hand. </p><p>"what do you mean weird?!" they ask, now terrified that something is actually wrong with joe. this can't be happening. no, not right now. joe shrugs. </p><p>"i don't know. they said they would let me know in a little while." he replies, inviting pete over on the side of his bed that isn't crossed with ivs. "it's probably fine, don't worry. chris and i call shit weird in the lab all the time when it's not." pete sighs and sits on the bed next to him. he wraps his arms around them and buries his face in their chest. </p><p>/ <i></i></p><p>
  <i>pete remembers being the one in the emergency room, shaking in pain as the doctor set their broken wrist in a cast after they broke it in a car accident. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>they said that pete didn't need surgery immediately, but it would be a possibility if the wrist wasn't healing property with the cast alone. it could be worse- it could have been their right hand. but it still sucks. </i>
</p><p><i>joe holds their right hand, having not left their side since they let him back there. pete's car is pretty damaged, but it can be repaired. thankfully it wasn't deemed their fault and they could get a few dollars out of the insurance company, and they're happy to hear that the other person involved will likely be okay. joe plants a kiss on their cheek and rests his head on their shoulder. they know that they can milk it and make joe pay for dinner. and they do.<br/>
</i><br/>
/ </p><p>pete doesn't know exactly what they just heard, but it was something about a miscarriage and how joe needed to get into surgery as soon as possible because the tissue had gotten infected. they don't even think joe realizes what's going on because he's sedated as soon as the words came out of the doctor's mouth. he kind of just goes with it like he always does. </p><p>pete didn't realize getting pregnant was a possibility for someone taking hrt, but apparently it is. and now they're freaking out, chasing joe down the hallway as he's rolled into a cold operating room, tears streaming down their face. this has to be a dream. like. a terrible one. they’re going to wake up under the covers in bed with joe, who’s going to be perfectly fine and nothing had ever happened at all.</p><p>they wish that were the case so desperately. but it isn’t. they sit in a cold waiting room until they hear something. </p><p>in reality, the procedure takes no time. but it still feels like forever. they don't even want to think about the fact that they had just lost a child. pete knows it's theirs. who's else would it be? </p><p>chris comes and sits with them, albeit in silence. they have nothing to talk about. everything that they would really have to talk about had already been discussed years ago when they broke up. 

yeah. chris and pete dated years prior. they were like, in college. all that’s exchanged is the details of what’s going on and chris asks pete if they want coffee. they say yes. they don’t usually drink it. but they could use some right now.

</p>
<p>
  <i>“you’re a really cool guy, joseph trohman.” pete says as they sit on the balcony of their apartment, looking up at the clear night sky with their new best friend over cupcakes and soda- as if they really needed all of that sugar. joe knows a lot about astrology and shit- almost as much as pete does. they think it’s really cool. they like his taste in music and movies and share recommendations. it almost feels like a date. it isn’t. “for my eighth birthday, my parents bought me this telescope.. because i thought space was really cool and they took me to the planetarium once and saw i really liked it,” they start to explain, “and i think maybe they regretted this because i’d stay out super late looking at the stars and the moon and i had this little constellation book and i’d try to find them all.” they laugh. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>joe rests his head on his hand, leaning on the table between them as he listens to pete’s story. pete likes the fact that he seems genuinely interested in what they have to say. he doesn’t dismiss it as rambling. it feels nice. “my mom was really into astrology when i was a kid. she did my brother’s nursery in stars and stuff. it was cool.” pete smiles.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“what does your mom do? i know your dad is a detective, but…” they trail off before adding, “..sorry if that’s a little too personal.” joe shrugs, unaffected by it.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“my mom stayed at home. she had a lot of weird jobs before i was born. my parents had only been married like a couple of months when they got pregnant with me.” he adjusts his chair closer to the table and pulls his left knee up to his chest. “my mom died in a car accident when i was fourteen. i think. i don’t remember anything from that time.” he shrugs. “my memory sort of sucks when it comes to my childhood. i can’t really give you anything juicy.” he laughs.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“that sucks.” pete says. it’s all they really can say. they can’t imagine losing either of their parents at such a young age, considering the conflicting feelings they had towards them at that age. they weren’t bad people- and they weren’t perfect. they also weren’t terrible parents, they've decided. they sort of did the best they could. “about your mom, i mean.. i wish i could forget my childhood.” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“i’m sorry.” joe says. he puts his hand on the table and pete initiates this by holding it. now they’re sort of sitting there, their fingers intwined. it’s intimate. it’s nice. “you have some icing on the corner of your mouth.” joe says. “It’s..” he leans over the table, causing pete to look directly at him, their eyes interlocked. before he knows it, he’s kissing pete. he didn’t expect to. but it’s nice. he had licked the icing off of pete’s mouth and let it melt off of his tongue onto theirs. pete is totally into the sharing of saliva right now, almost pulling joe over the table. he’s already standing on his chair. they’re tempted to clear everything off to pin him against the table right now, but they don’t.<br/>
</i>
</p><p>/<br/>
the procedure went well, luckily, but apparently joe had a couple of issues coming off of the anaesthesia, including freaking out and asking the doctors what they had done to him, and throwing up once again. they up his dosage of zofran and let pete take him home later in the day when he’s calmed down.</p><p>now it’s noon, and they’re laying in joe’s bed. he’s extremely quiet. he hasn’t really processed what had happened. pete really hasn’t either. they don’t know what to say. </p><p>“we would have been bad parents, i think.” joe eventually says. pete wants to be mad, but he’s probably right. so they’re not. “like.. i mean, i know i would. maybe you’d be a good one. i don’t really know.. i don’t think i want kids, though.. and it’s like.. being a pregnant guy would suck.” </p><p>“yeah.” pete says. they don’t personally feel like being pregnant would be a problem for them, but that won’t be happening due to the fact that their body is technically classified as ‘male’. “do you need anything?” they ask, “i gotta go get gas sometime today because i’m driving down to springfield in the morning.” </p><p>“can i come with you?” joe asks. pete isn’t sure if it’s because he just wants to, or if he doesn’t want to be alone. either way, they don’t feel too great about him doing anything besides laying in bed today. though it was a minor procedure, they still worry. “i feel fine.” </p><p>“you should stay here and rest. i don’t want you to end up hurting yourself.” pete says, “i’m sorry. just let me know if you want anything and i’ll get it.” joe sits up and crosses his arms. pete doesn’t think much about it until they start to notice tears forming in his eyes, something they’ve never seen him do. “are you seriously crying?” pete asks, “joe, it’s for your own good. i want you to stay safe.” he eventually nods and falls backwards again.  </p><p>“fine…” he says, “can you bring be back some bugles?” pete makes a mental note.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. falling apart, or something like that.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“i was really hoping you’d.. y’know, take a few days off from work.” pete says, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as they watch their boyfriend get ready to head back off to the lab. </p><p>“i ‘on’t nee’ a fu-in lec’shurr.” joe slurs with his toothbrush in his mouth before spitting out the foam. “i told you i would put together my sick days and take next week off, okay?!” pete’s slightly taken aback by joe’s sudden irritable behavior, but they can’t imagine that he’s feeling too great with all of the pain pills and antibiotics he’s on. pete gets up and follows joe back into his bedroom.</p><p>“i didn’t mean it like that, i just don’t want you to like, hurt yourself.” joe sighs and runs a hand through his hair. he turns around with a swift motion and kisses pete. pete isn’t too fond of the strong minty toothpaste taste as they definitely prefer the kids’ version that comes in bubblegum flavor, but they enjoy joe. </p><p>“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i know you just.. care about me.” he apologizes, “i’m tired, and it isn’t your fault. i shouldn’t just take it out on you.” he bites his lip, “i love you.” pete can’t hide their smile at the last three words- that’s the joe that they know and love. they observe the missed button on his shirt and slide it into the hole. </p><p>“i love you too.” they say, lovingly looking up at him. "be careful today, and just let me know if you need me to come pick you up." joe nods in response and pulls pete into a brief, but tight embrace. </p><p>"i took care of everything that predator needed, she's had breakfast, she'll probably nap all day 'cause it's supposed to rain." he says, letting go of pete, "and on that note, i should probably get going.” </p><p>pete follows joe to the livingroom and watches him leave. they can't really shake the feeling that he's lying to an extent. they're good at picking up on things like that- they always have been. and while joe is no exception, they struggle to show sympathy when it's never really been something they've needed to show him. it hurts, not knowing how to be there for the one that they love the most. </p><p>/ </p><p>pete remembers when everything clicked. when they realized that joe… knew. not just about the specific incident-- the one that almost took names--, but the ones before that. buildings they had burned because they were bored. the restaurant, the abandoned gas station. they were driving home, and something told them that maybe they shouldn't be there, but they continued nevertheless. </p><p>there's a light on in their apartment. paranoia kicks in. they know that it's not a serial killer, but they kind of wish it was. </p><p>it's quiet, set aside from the flicker of a cigarette lighter. pete wishes that the ground would just swallow them whole. </p><p>he's sitting on the floor- the man that pete is at this point convinced will either become their husband, or will end up leaving their life in a brutal murder. he's smart. too smart. maybe even smarter than pete. and they love him- they really do. but what he knows is like a dark cloud. </p><p>"i know everything." joe says as pete steps into their living room. newspapers and photos laid out across the floor. he sits in the middle of it all, too calm for pete's liking. </p><p>"i..i know." pete admits, arms crossed. "i can't go to jail. i know i should, but-" </p><p>"i know." joe interrupts, "i don't like putting people behind bars. i prefer a more rehabilitative approach." pete bites their quivering lip. </p><p>"i-i wi-ill ki-kill you." they stutter through tears. joe scoffs and takes a drag off of his cigarette. </p><p>"you won't." he says. they know he's right, and they can also tell that he's just as scared as they are. "w-would love for you to try. i'll make it easy. won't make a sound." their vision is blurred from their own tears, making it impossible to look at joe. they don't want to think about it. they really couldn't. "i'm thinking about how i'll hide the evidence." pete can't take it, bursting into tears. their knees hit the floor as they sob into their own hands. joe crawls towards them and pulls them into his embrace. </p><p>"i-i do-on't deserve you." they choke out. "y-y-you're so calm.. an-and reposed… and you-you…"</p><p>"shh. it's okay." he says, stroking their cheek as they wrap their arms around him. "i promise." pete nods. but they're still sobbing. this time into joe's shoulder, their arms wrapped tightly around him. “you’re safe..”</p><p>/ <br/>joe stands out in a humid downpour, a camera in hand as the rain hits the dark blue jacket that loudly reads ‘forensics’ on the back. he snaps as many photos as he can of a motionless victim before she's wheeled into an ambulance- lacerations on her thighs, wrists and throat. it feels like an invasion of privacy, and he mouths 'sorry' to the lady with every flash.</p><p>he walks over to the scene of the crime as he shows his badge to law enforcement and repeats the process there, collecting strands of hair and mentally measuring the chalk outline of another victim who suffered a different, still painful fate. the deceased victim is in a body bag, being lifted into the coroner's van. joe recognizes one of his friends from high school as an assistant. he realizes that the other man recognizes him as well and flashes him a smile. </p><p>"you wanna go ahead and take any evidence back to the lab?" asks art alexakis, head of forensics, an expressive and relatively laid-back man with bright white hair- but not from age. joe knows that it isn't his natural hair color considering his jet black facial hair, but he can't recall ever having seen his roots. </p><p>"yeah, totally." he replies, capping the lens of his camera. "thanks for letting me do some field work today." art throws a couple of finger-guns towards joe.</p><p>"no problem, we'll work on getting you out here more when we find another lab rat." the platinum blonde man winks, "but for now, analyzing dna is a very important job that needs to get done." he pats his acclaimed labrat on the shoulder before heading off.</p><p>joe looks at the evidence he’s collected, laid out in the back of the suv. </p><p>/ <br/>pete remembers sitting at a table for two, looking over their shoulder for any possible signs of joe. he was supposed to be there at seven. it’s fifteen minutes after, which, isn’t horrible- but at the same time, he’s almost never late. dinner at seven, on the patio at michael’s. that was the plan.</p><p>“do you know what the other person may want to drink?” the waitress asks- she’s young, with bright orange hair. her name tag reads ‘hayley’.</p><p>“uhh, yeah, orange soda sounds about right.” pete replies, “sorry.. he’s usually here before me.” hayley shrugs and writes it on her notepad.</p><p>“don’t worry, dude, just call me over when he gets here.” they nod in response and lean back in their chair. they look around the area- a group of older women enjoying cocktails, a father reading off of a kids’ menu to his small children, a couple of young teenagers who look nervous enough to be on their first date. it’s a nice night. but pete begins to get paranoid that they’ll spend it alone.</p><p>“pete!” they hear, just as they’ve begun to lose hope. “petey! i’m sorry!” joe runs up the stairs of the dining area and trips into his chair. “sorry. sorry. fuck.” he runs a hand through his hair that’s starting to resemble something of a sheep dog and slams his palms on the table. “guess what?” pete smirks. they really can’t be too mad at him, especially when he looks so.. cute and excited about something.</p><p>“what?” pete asks with a smile. </p><p>“i went out in the field today.” he announces. pete claps slightly for him before taking a sip of their lemonade. “they didn’t like, let me touch anything.. but i shadowed.” he says, eyes wide open, “but dude, i got to see a dead body.” </p><p>“that’s exciting.” pete says through their lemonade. joe looks up and sees hayley coming back over with the orange soda that pete had ordered. “you know me so well already.” he smiles. “thanks, hayley. so anyway, there was like, blood everywhere, right?” pete grabs one of the breadstick appetizers and stuffs it in their boyfriend’s mouth to keep him quiet just a minute so that they can finish ordering. </p><p>"can we just get, uhh, alfredo?" they ask, "sorry."</p><p>“gotcha'.” she says before heading off. joe takes a bite of the breadstick and takes the rest out of his mouth before continuing, “so the concrete...” pete rolls their eyes with a smile again. </p><p>"okay," they say, "go on."<br/>/<br/>joe was already in the parking lot of his apartment building when he got the call from his dad about how the victim made it through surgery and is in recovery at a local hospital. it’s great news at first, considerably, until mark mentions that she has a daughter, and that she’ll be in foster care until the mother fully recovers. something hits, and he’s fighting back tears as his dad goes on about other details of the case.</p><p>“you alright?” mark pauses talking about the case to ask, kind of shocking joe that he cares to talk to him about something that isn’t work-related.</p><p>“yeah.” joe says, “why do you ask? i mean.. i-i hope the kid stays with a nice family until she can be with her mom again.”</p><p>“yeah, me too.” his dad replies, “and i was just asking. you’ve been quiet today. art said you had some sort of appointment come up yesterday and called out.” joe bites his lip. fuck. he can’t tell him this he can’t tell anyone. only pete knows, and it’s going to stay that way.</p><p>“just a thing come up with the endocrinologist.” he lies, “no big deal. totally fine.” </p><p>“alright. i’m gonna let you go, i have some shit to work with right now. see you tomorrow.” mark says before hanging up. </p><p>joe sits alone in his car for a few minutes, trying to recollect his own senses. it’s not the victim- it’s not even the crime itself. in fact, he can’t even explain why he’s suddenly so upset over a child being involved. it’s not the first time. all cases are sad, and he’s felt closer to many when a kid’s parent is the one who dies, much like his own experience. </p><p>joe adjusts the rearview and stares into his own eyes. he hardly recognizes the blue irises staring back at him. something has changed, but he can’t quite pinpoint what it is.</p><p>pete is sitting on the couch with predator. as soon as he walks into his apartment, pete can immediately tell something is wrong.</p><p>“hey. how was your day?” joe tries not to look pete in the eyes, because he knows that if he does, he’ll start crying. and he really doesn’t want that- he just wants to go to bed. the thought of crying in front of pete scares him- he doesn’t feel like he’s supposed to, like he’s supposed to be the calm, reposed one. it’s terrifying, really, considering that pete already watched him go through the physical effect of what had happened this week. he can’t fall apart. not right now. </p><p>pete gets up, following him to the other end of the couch,where he puts his keys on the table. “joe. speak to me.” they demand, putting their hand on his face. he closes his eyes tightly as his stomach turns, the saline starting to run down his cheekbones. </p><p>he moves pete’s hand off of his face, “i-i can't… i don’t know, i just..” he stutters, fanning his face with his hands as he struggles to speak. pete doesn't really know what to do. maybe they shouldn't be here. joe is clearly flustered for one reason or another. he leans over and immediately throws up into the garbage can next to the table. pete steps back slightly. they didn't expect that. </p><p>“you alright?” they ask as joe stands back up, clearly embarrassed as he covers his mouth. he nods in response.</p><p>“mm-hmm.... th-the fuckin’ like, pain medication and shit.. it.. yeah.” pete smiles awkwardly.</p><p>/ </p><p>he seems to be trying to be himself. the version of himself that was sitting on his bathroom sink, stirring a tint brush in a jar of red manic panic hair dye, about to slather it onto the blonde streaks in pete’s bangs. they remember him joking around about how it looks like blood, and how he started a fake crime scene photo shoot when it stained his bathtub red, having pete lay over the side of the tub, acting dead.</p><p>joe kept making faces at them, which cracked them up too much to look serious about posing as roadkill, the dye still bleeding out of their wet hair. pete’s laughing hysterically, and joe finally pulls them up out of the tub. they take a picture together with joe’s polaroid. he hides his face in pete’s shoulder. he always does- he doesn’t really like pictures of himself. pete theorizes that it’s a combination of his body dysmorphia as well as his dysphoria of not ‘passing well enough’. he never entertains these theories, and just insists he doesn’t like it. it makes him uncomfortable, the same way that certain things make pete uncomfortable; like mental hospitals and the sight of actual dead bodies.</p><p>pete knows that he keeps pictures of them in his closet. it doesn’t bother them. they think it’s cute. they just wish they had more of him.</p><p>their favorite one is this black and white one from around a year before they met. joe’s blonde in that picture. it’s sort of weird to them. he says it only lasted for about a month before he dyed it back to it’s natural dark brown. pete keeps it in their wallet.</p><p>/<br/>pete lays awake in joe’s bed, assuming that he’s fast asleep next to them as everything plays through their head and maybe then some. what if they had known earlier? what would they have done? would they even know where to start with being parents? while fucking up their own children is something that’s always in the back of pete’s mind, they also had never planned to have any to begin with. but what if they did? surely they’d try their best. they’ve never discussed children with joe- now really isn’t the time. they rest their head on joe’s chest. it’s quiet. Pete closes their eyes in hopes of falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. </p><p>but they lay there a while, still awake. </p><p>minutes pass and they feel like hours, but just when pete finally thinks they may be falling into that first stage of sleep, they’re pulled out of it by what sounds like crying.</p><p>“joe?” they groan, sitting up. it definitely seems like he’s crying. pete tries to shake him awake, finally getting a rise when his eyes open, still flooding with tears. “hey, what’s wrong?” they ask softly. joe can’t answer, so he just starts crying even harder.</p><p>pete just grabs him, pulling him into their arms and he collapses into them, burying his face in their shoulder. “you’re okay.” they say, as it’s really all that they can think of. he’s clearly not. something inside of him finally broke, and pete can tell that it’s going to take a while to put it back together. his crying turns into sobbing, almost screaming as he clings onto them like he’s going to fall, “fuck. fuck, oh my god.” they whisper, “it’s okay. it’s okay. y-you’re safe. you’re safe, baby. it’s alright.” </p><p>they want to cry themself.</p>
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